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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795999">Breathless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollseyes/pseuds/dollseyes'>dollseyes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Bright Sessions (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:20:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollseyes/pseuds/dollseyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joan Bright/Owen Thompson | Agent Green</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Breathless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Owen collapsed into his couch, burying his face into the cushions and letting out a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had gotten behind on his paperwork because Joan had popped into his office for a brief chat and stayed longer than expected and then Owen had spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the document he had been filling out, just smiling at it like an idiot. Then he had barely gotten a grant application in before the deadline and Ellie found out he was running behind and instead of helping, like a human being, she gave him more work to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So instead of getting out at six like he was supposed to, he got out at 9 because his brain was too fried to function anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he couldn't have left work unfinished because it was a Friday and he wasn't on the shift this weekend so he had to make certain everything was in order for them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone began to buzz in his pocket and his stomach dropped. He must have forgotten to do something because the only people with his number were his co-workers and his parents. He had no friends to speak of so it wasn't a social call. And it wasn't his scheduled time to call his parents so something must have gone wrong at the AM.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked it up without looking, not wanting to see Wadsworth's name on his screen at this hour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This is Agent Green speaking, how may I help you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey are we still on for that movie tonight?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Joan?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah it's me. So?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What movie?" he asked hesitantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The one I told you about today. 10 Things I Hate About You. Mark won't watch it with me and I can't watch it alone and you said you wanted to see it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Had he?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, yeah."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Great. What's your address so I can put it into MapQuest?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He told her drearily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Great, see you soon!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Owen stood and began to tidy his apartment. He was fairly clean, but he had tossed all his papers from the past week on his dining table and his shoes were in a pile by the door. He cleared one of the hooks on his coat rack so that Joan would have a place to put hers when she arrived. He also lit a candle to lift the scent of the stake air, but quickly extinguished it because he didn't want her to get the wrong impression or think he had any expectations. Because they were watching this as coworkers who were maybe, possibly, just becoming friends. He didn't want to push that or let on to his own feelings right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because it was impossible for Owen to not look at Joan and become entranced by the curl of her lip when she knew she had said something clever, or the pull of her teeth at her bottom lip when she thought or more recently the brightness of her eyes when she shared some in joke with him from across a meeting room. Just the other day Owen's mind had blanked during a joint presentation he was giving with Ellie on the quarterly view, and he had missed his cue to come in. All because Joan had shared an eye roll with him over Ellie using the word "bequeath" like some Shakespearean character.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as much as Joan was the only one that Owen thought about, he realized there was little to no chance that she was interested in him in the same way. First of all, going by the history Owen was aware of, he wasn't exactly her type. Admittedly, the one data point he had was the brief whatever it was with she had with Ellie when she had first come to the AM. And he liked to imagine that he was as far away from being like Wadsworth as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Secondly, prior to this, they had never spent any time together outside of working hours. (Not completely true, once they had both stayed overtime at the AM, but it was still work related so it didn't count.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And finally, her choice of movie. He couldn't imagine anything happening with a movie about hating someone else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All these very logical reasons didn't keep his heart from attempting to fly from his chest when he saw her at the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey," she said with a smile, "I um, also brought a bottle of wine. To you know, thank you for hosting." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thrust the bottle at him and he took it and set it on the table so that he could take her coat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, that's um, really nice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some traitorous part of his brain suggested the idea that her lips looked glossier than usual and her cheeks were nicely pink from the cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll get glasses," he suggested when he realized he had been staring a little too long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, sounds good."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he came back, he found that Joan had relit the candle on his low table in front of the television Owen hardly used and now sat on the couch wringing her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was nervous. Joan was never nervous, so Owen must really be making her uncomfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He uncorked the wine and poured them both a reasonable amount of wine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan took her glass with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had gotten the DVD playing he stared at the brightly colored menu that seemed distinctly nineties.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"When this movie came out, I was sixteen and I thought seriously about going by Kat."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Owen glanced at Joan on the other end of the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?" he asked, unable to keep the laughter from his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan laughed as well, tucking her hair behind her ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean my middle name is Katherine, not quite Katherina, but…" she shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I could see you as a Kat," Owen said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan gave him a small smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think even if I did, it wouldn't stop Mark from calling me Joanie."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked down at her empty glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm going to get more wine, do you want some?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Owen swirled the last couple drops of his own glass into his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-yes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll grab the bottle," Joan said, getting up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you want me to pause?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, it's fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Owen was left to watch Heath Ledger not kiss the girl who was very obviously into him alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan came back and poured wine into her glass and then his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, she didn't move back to the other side of the couch when she sat down. And when Owen, frozen, didn't move away, she leaned into him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you have a blanket?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I, yeah."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Owen was hesitant to move because that would give Joan the opportunity to move away without making it awkward. Because she had surely realized she didn't want to be that close to him. Because they were just friends. Barely even. But if she wanted an out, he owed it to her to offer one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'll get it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood and grabbed it off the back of a lounge chair he had bought when he was certain he would have enough company for both a couch and a lounger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here," he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn't moved. And when he sat down, she turned her body so that her back rested against his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn't moving away. Not in the least bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dropped his arm down so that it wrapped around her. Not tight enough that she couldn't shrug out of it if she wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, she surprised him, though at this point surprise should have been the expectation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when Heath Ledger sang Frankie Valli and Joan rocked her shoulders, it was only natural that he rocked a little with her, because of the wine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He kept it off for as long as possible, but he eventually had to wipe his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, Owen," Joan said, sitting up. "I didn't realize that you would cry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sniffled embarrassingly, ruining any chance he had with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, well I have human emotions, sorry to disappoint."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan brushed his hand away and he knew that his face was puffy and red from crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Could've fooled me," she said and then paused, biting her lip again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, Owen couldn't look away. He stared at her lips and they were definitely glossy, he could smell the gloss. And then he could taste the gloss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Joan was pressing her lips to his and he was pulling her closer until she pulled away and he had been breathless before, but it had a new meaning now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They missed the rest of the movie, but Owen didn't really mind.</span>
</p>
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